RAINE REFLECTIONS

© Christopher Raine

www.rainereflections.com

Song of the Siren

 

While the choir sings softly
With a hymn that is sweet
And a beauty that slips
Through the soul
Its praise and its glory
So far beyond worry
You offer lucre
To the heavenly shoals


Where they sing and they dance
To the idle romance
And the notion of something so pure
A jest has been made
By the men in brocades
The mitres and vestments allure

They’ll guide your soul for a while
If you don’t ever smile
And tithe all the earnings you make
Admission is paid
For the sins that you made
And the cherubs are all on the take
 
Aye, the Lord is a miser
You’ve thought none the wiser
For the crumbs and the wine
That you drank
It’s expensive enough
And you all share a cup
And then bow your head in thanks

While the choir sings softly
With a hymn that is sweet
And a beauty that slips
through the soul
Its praise and its glory
So far beyond worry
You offer lucre
To the heavenly shoals